My Heart Wants You
by Whammy
Summary: Your heart beats harder, faster, stronger around her. It doesn't listen to logic. All it wants is her. But you can't have her.


You can't believe it's been a year.

A whole year of college done. Where did the time go? Wasn't it just yesterday that your mom was moving you into your hall? She's not here this time, and you're okay with that. Your roommate left first, her finals ending on Wednesday, while yours went until Friday. It's better this way though. You never liked long goodbyes.

Your room is empty. In 30 minutes, your RA will inspect your room and wish you a happy summer. You wish you had applied for that summer position at work so that you wouldn't have to go home for three months. Not that it was home anymore. Not if she wasn't going to be there.

You're not sure when exactly it happened, when you fell in love with her. You denied it until you couldn't anymore, and that was what, years? Once you realized it, you scolded yourself for having the originality of a six year old with a schoolyard crush. You didn't know what to do; you bullied her, you befriended her, but neither worked.

How do you fall out of love?

You try to ignore you heart and instead listen to your head. You date other people. You think of all the reasons you're incompatible. You even give your blessing for her to marry someone else. It doesn't matter. Your heart beats harder, faster, stronger around her. It doesn't listen to logic. All it wants is her. But you can't have her.

She followed her dreams to New York after graduation. You didn't dare tell her about how you feel; you would never hold her back, even if it hurt to let her go. You couldn't help yourself though, you gave her train tickets from New York to New Haven. The day you arrive in New Haven, however, you decide not to use yours.

You tried to stay away. Really, you did. You immersed yourself in college life. You got involved on-campus, met new people, stayed up all night studying and marathoning shows on Netflix. You were the ideal college student. Your psychology professor even took special interest in you.

Looking back on it now, it was an idiotic decision. You knew that while it was happening too, but it felt so good to be wanted instead of wanting her. Besides, she didn't need you anymore. You saw on Facebook that she had a new boyfriend. You were happy that she was happy. You vowed to ruin this boyfriend if he hurts her. Otherwise, you stay away.

You were good until the call from her roommate. It had been months since you had talked to her. Every time she emailed, you felt guilty when you didn't respond, but you kept them all for the bad days when you missed her. You could hear her voice in your head as you read them, you could sense her disappointment. Why did you even by those stupid train tickets? You must have been kidding yourself.

When you gave them to her, you told her you wanted to stay in touch. To an extent, that's true. But really, it was just another moment of weakness. You couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her for months at a time. Maybe, just maybe, you deluded yourself into thinking you could surprise her in the city of her dreams and sweep her off her feet.

Those daydreams just hurt now.

You used to make up all these scenarios in your head. Sometimes they were little things, like you taking care of her when she was sick, and others were bigger, her first show, your engagement. She consumed your thoughts. You pretended that you had a chance, that one day she'd be singing to you instead of him.

It still confuses you that when you asked, she didn't answer.

Seeing her was harder than you thought it would be. You're glad you went, but it hurt. It hurt to see her with him, to know that he could do all the things that you wanted to and would never understand just how lucky he was. Even though you hadn't seen her in six months, it was still there. You heart still raced in her presence, you still craved her touch, her smile.

Distance wasn't changing anything. You had to do something else.

You considered talking to her, but the thought alone made you nauseous. You couldn't lose her. She made you better, she believed in you when no one else did. But you couldn't carry on like this either. It hurt too much. Your jealousy didn't help. You had to let her go. But how?

You have to see her again soon after. Your old show choir teacher is getting married and all the old members are going to Ohio for the wedding. You buy a new dress, one that will let you show off (and maybe get her attention). On the plane, you attempt to convince yourself not to be jealous of her, especially if she dances with your mutual ex. Impossible.

At the wedding, you have another stupid idea. You sleep with your best friend, your drunken logic telling you that another girl would make it go away. You learn that you like girls a little more than you thought you did and you joke that now you're prepared if you ever get her. When you hear she spent the night with her ex, you throw up.

When you go back to New Haven, you tell yourself that this time, you really have to get over her. You decide it's time to talk to someone about it and get all the way to the door of the LGBTQ center before faking a phone call and turning around. You hate that she's the one you want to talk to about this. You think maybe you could just tell her you like girls, and not mention that she is the girl specifically.

You know you're being ridiculous, so you push it all aside. Your father would be proud. You focus on school and finish out the semester with only one B, which you're okay with, because really, who cares about macroeconomics? You help your roommate move out and promise you'll let her know when you get back in the fall. You take things to your car throughout the week and by Friday, all that's left in your room is your computer and a duffle bag. You pass your inspection and take the last of your things to the car. Your phone buzzes as you buckle up in the driver's seat.

It's from her.

_I hope your finals went well. You'll be taking the world by storm in no time. :)_

You want to cry. You've been a jerk and cut off nearly all communication with her, but that doesn't stop her. She loves you, even if it's not the way you want her to. Shouldn't that be enough?

No. You can't do this anymore. You have to stop. She doesn't even know that what she's doing hurts you. She thinks she's being nice, and she is, but her kindness is painful. It's not enough. It's a tease of what could be, and you feel a pang in your heart as you gasp for air. You didn't realize you were crying.

As you wipe away your tears, you make a new plan. You drive to the train station. You take your ticket out of your purse, its edges worn. The next train to New York is boarding and leaves in three minutes. You're not thinking anymore, and that's okay. You're sick of thinking. You have to do something.

You get on the train.

Your heart races the entire way there. Adrenaline is pulsing through your body and you could throw up at any second. You don't know what you're going to do when you get there. She might not even be at her apartment. You don't know if you're nervous or excited. This is it. No matter what happens, you are taking control of your life. You are finally doing something about this.

You are so jittery. You bounce your legs to try and rid yourself of some of your extra energy but nothing helps. You pull out your phone and check Facebook. You see she's posted about being exhausted after finals and can't wait to spend a quiet evening at home. You smile. The universe is looking out for you.

You play Temple Run until you get to Bushwick, cursing whoever told you it was a fun game. What fun is a game that you can't win? Still, you can't stop, at least not until the conductor mentions your destination. The nervous feeling returns to your stomach and you can feel a fire in your throat.

You can do this, you tell yourself.

This is your mantra until you arrive at the door to her apartment. You knock before you can talk yourself out of it and hope your hair doesn't look too bad from being on a train for so long. You run your hand through it just in case and tell yourself that it would be rude to throw up on your friends' doormat.

She opens the door and screams, jumping into your arms. It feels so good to feel her and you take your time letting go.

"Quinn! What are you doing here?" she asks, leading you into the apartment. You scan for her roommates but don't see any of them. She sits down on the couch and turns of the TV. You sit down next to her, knowing that you had to tell her; it was now or never.

"Is anyone else here?" you ask, purposefully ignoring her question.

"Nope, just me. Did you not want to see me?" she asks as her eyes grow wide.

"I came here to see you," you reassure her. "I just wanted to make sure we're alone."

She cocks her eyebrow at you. "We need to talk," you answer.

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that you've been ignoring me for months, Quinn Fabray?" she demands. You can't help but smile and nod. "So?"

"I didn't want to ignore you. I just thought it would be better if I did. I- I've got something to tell you, Rach. And I'm not sure how you're going to respond, but I can't do this anymore," you start. Tears are welling in your eyes and the words 'I love you' are burning in your throat.

"I'm in love with you," you say, closing your eyes. You can't risk looking at her.

You feel her hands on top of yours and she squeezes them as she whispers, "I know."

You are taken back. She knew? How? "How long?" you ask.

"I had my suspicions for a while, but I knew after Regionals last year," she responds. "It's okay, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" you say a little louder than necessary.

"I didn't want you to feel pressured. I figured you would come to me if and when you wanted to," she calmly replies.

"I can't believe you knew. Why didn't you tell me you weren't singing that song to me when I asked you last year?" Your voice raises again. You don't know whether or not to be furious or relieved. She knew. She obviously doesn't care. But she could have told you 'no' a long time ago and your heart wouldn't be in its current tormented state.

"Because I didn't know if I was or not!" she shouts, throwing her hands in the air. Diva.

You were not expecting that. "Rachel, what are you saying?" you ask, leaning towards her. Your heart is beating so loudly that you are positive that she can hear it.

"I'm saying I don't know Quinn! I don't know! I don't know how I feel about you," she explains, clearly frustrated. "I don't know if I like you or I like that you're in love with me."

Ow. Your heart pangs. A no would have been better than a maybe, you tell yourself. A no is definite, a no is the first step to moving on. Maybe just prolongs the process. Maybe gives you hope that will probably crushed. Maybe isn't good enough. You take a deep breath. This needs to be taken care of tonight. No more waiting.

"So, what do we do? I can't do this anymore, Rach. It hurts loving you and knowing that you don't love me back," you say, taking her hand into yours. You squeeze, and to your surprise, she squeezes back.

"I don't want to hurt you," she whispers, leaning into brush a stray hair out of my face.

"Then don't," you reply, closing the gap between your lips. You are hesitant at first, your lips linger on hers, waiting for a sign.

She doesn't pull away.


End file.
